


God had everything to do with this

by Mipmip13



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Gore, Heavy Angst, Hurt Lucifer, Hurt Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Hurt No Comfort, Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV) Whump, Michael is a Little Shit, Pain, Sorry Not Sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:16:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29736513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mipmip13/pseuds/Mipmip13
Summary: What happened after 5*08 cliffhanger?Chloe found herself standing in the middle of the evidence room, all alone. Lucifer just vanished, with no explanation.Where was he? Was he okay?*There will be no comfort here, consider yourself warned.
Relationships: Amenadiel & Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Chloe Decker & Lucifer Morningstar, Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar, God & Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV)
Comments: 72
Kudos: 96





	1. Have you seen Lucifer?

"Chloe, I lo…" 

And then he was just gone. Vanished into thin air. One moment he was in front of her, struggling to say those three little words, and the next moment she was alone in the evidence room, staring at where he was just standing. What the heck? Where did he go?

Her detective instincts sprang into action. She listened carefully, taking note of the commotion outside the room. She could hear glass shreds being pushed around, and many confused voices. It got her worried. What happened? Where is he? Did he run away again? Afraid to let her down by not being able to say the words she so desperately needed to hear?

She strode out of the evidence room, watching all the cacophony around the precinct, noticing the broken glass wall and all other signs of a fight that obviously happened here. Scattered papers, smashed tables and were these knife holes in the walls? It seemed like something big had occurred here. What the hell happened?

"Have you seen Lucifer?" She asked around but no one knew where he was. She could hear a baby's cry from one of the interrogation rooms and stepped inside only to find agitated Linda preparing a bottle for baby Charlie. "Chloe, have you seen Amenadiel? We were on our way here to talk. One moment he was just walking beside us and the next he just vanished."

"No, I haven't seen him. But I think something big happened here. There are signs of a struggle outside, and Lucifer is missing too." Chloe was worried now. There was no way in hell that Amenadiel would leave Charlie and Linda alone like that without a word. Something must have happened to them, maybe they needed to leave in a rush in order to keep everyone at the precinct safe from something? Or someone?

She tried calling Lucifer, but his phone kept ringing and going to voicemail. By the fourth time she gave in and left a message. "Lucifer, what happened? Where are you? I'm worried, please call me back when you get this." 

Amenadiel's phone wasn't even ringing and went straight to voicemail. She hung up, the pit in her stomach kept growing.

Both women exchanged worried glances and Chloe took charge. There was no use for both of them to freak out right now. "Don't worry Linda, I'll find them. I'm going to track down their phones. We'll figure this out in no time."

\----

She drove way above the speed limits. She even used her sirens. She almost never used her sirens. Lucifer would be so bummed when she'll tell him she used it without him. 

Lucifer. 

Her foot pressed hard on the acceleration pedal.

The tech guy couldn't track down Amenadiel's phone, but Lucifer's was pinpointing Lux. Maybe he really did run off, ghosting her. She was hoping that was the case, otherwise him not picking up her calls meant he was in a really bad shape. Or worse.

She arrived at Lux in record time, leaving her car just outside on the curve in front of the entrance. She stormed inside. It was daytime so the club was empty, only the staff was there, running around, arranging everything for the night to come. Cleaning and restocking the liquor shelves. 

She practically ran towards the elevator, ignoring Patrick's regards, frantically pressing the penthouse level botton. She was hoping to find him brooding, feeling ashamed for ditching her. She was hoping it was all because he was unable to say the words she so desperately wanted to hear. Maybe she'd find him playing on his piano, or singing. Something sad and emotional as he always sang when he was upset or unable to word out his feelings. 

But her detective instincts told her she was wrong, and the pit in her stomach kept growing with each passing moment. Why was the elevator ride taking so long?

She wanted to be angry at him for bailing on her, but she was worried sick. It wasn't like him to run off in the middle of a sentence, in the middle of reassuring her and letting her know how he felt. Well, it was like him, the old him. But he'd changed. He was more open and upfront with her since he returned from hell. He really did act like she meant the world to him, like he really did love her, even though he couldn't say the words.

The elevator ding tore her out of her thoughts. The doors opened to reveal the penthouse. The whole place was thrashed, liquor was still dripping down the smashed shelves and bar. All the furniture was destroyed, including the beautiful piano, it's pieces scattered around on the marble floor. What the hell happened here? 

She suddenly noticed the heavy scent of blood in the air. She took another step and her leg slipped on something, a close inspection revealed it was indeed droplets of blood. Oh no…

"Lucifer?" She called out. But there was no answer. 

She kept following the trail of blood as the droplets became larger. Hysteria was threatening to drown her. She kept progressing cautiously, taking measured breaths in order to calm herself. It wasn't working. She was terrified, afraid of what she's going to find when she reaches the source of all that blood.

"LUCIFER?" She was yelling now, almost screaming, her voice squeaky even to her own ears. She reached the small stairwell leading to his bedroom and found a small stream of blood dripping down the stairs.

And then she saw it, and her heart dropped. A hand, covered with blood. The owner of the hand was wearing a blue suit jacket and what was once a purple dress shirt. 

She took one more look at the limp hand, and she knew it was him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder - English is not my first language and I have no beta so all mistakes are mine.
> 
> This is going to end badly, so if you can't take it, it's better to stop here. 
> 
> If you do choose to continue reading I would very much appreciate getting your comments on this one or any of my stories. 
> 
> Thank you 💗


	2. Bye bye

"Children, you know I hate it when you fight." 

God's words echoed in the room. 

Everything was silent, both Lucifer and Amenadiel were holding their breath, watching, waiting to see what is going to happen next. Their father was not a forgiving parent, but they did nothing wrong. Maybe he came to stop Michael from destroying everything they had worked so hard to build? Maybe he came to reconcile with his estranged son, millenia after casting him away?

But Michael's grin told them otherwise. He folded up his wings and watched his father intently. God reached out to him. "Come here my son, my right hand. Come and help me decide on a fitting punishment for those two who dared to defy me." 

Both angels felt chills running down their spines at their father's words. 

"But first, let's get humanity running again, shall we?" God snapped his fingers and all celestials disappeared. Time at the precinct and all over the world started moving again. 

They found themselves at Lucifer's home, at his penthouse. Their wings were somehow tucked in even though they didn't fold them. It reminded them both how powerful and almighty their father was. He could do whatever he wanted to them and there was nothing they could do about it.

"Father." Amenadiel started, only to be shushed by his father's raised finger. The older angel's eyes widened at the realization that he couldn't speak anymore. 

"I think I know what to do with you." God said. "You couldn't keep your fallen brother in hell as I ordered. And you didn't keep your post while you covered for him when he came here." He seemed to be contemplating. 

"Don't forget about raising a human soul from hell, a corrupt cop that killed innocent humans. And he also procreated with a human." Michael spat out that last bit with disgust.

"You are right my son, I need to take everything into consideration." 

Amenadiel tried to speak but still no sound came out. "It's not his fault, I taunted him, I was the one who made him fall." Lucifer's voice was shaking. He was terrified of this day. The day when he would have to answer to all the wrongs he had done. But he knew his father would show him no mercy, so maybe he could at least save Amenadiel, take the blame for his sins.

"YOU WILL NOT SPEAK UNLESS SPOKEN TO." His father's voice roared at him and he fell silent, his knees almost giving out by the force of the words, his whole figure shaking, the dread of what's to come almost suffocating him.

"Amenadiel, you are to take over Hell. You are now declared as ruler of the infernal plane for all eternity. You will take over your brother's previous task, because you couldn't keep him there. Also, I need you there because it seems that your brother's punishment won't allow him to resume his duties." God finished and raised his hand. Lucifer and Amenadiel exchanged horrified glances. 

Michael's glee was unmistakable. "Bye bye." He viciously smiled to Amenadiel as God waved his hand, and the firstborn angel disappeared.

Lucifer gaped at the empty space beside him, where his brother stood mere seconds ago. This punishment was harsh, but he had a feeling that his was going to be much much worse. Maybe he'll be lucky and his dad will smite him out of existence. No, it was far too easy and merciful. Merely not painful enough. He'd done too many horrible things, broke too many of his father's rules. His punishment is going to be anything but merciful.

"Samael." God turned towards him now. How he hated that name. Poison of God. He wasn't that man anymore, not for a long time. But he was poison to the people who cared about him. He hurt them. He made his best efforts to be better. But now he's going to disappear once more and they were going to think that he ran off again, bailed on them. On her. 

"Samael, you led the rebellion against my rule. You got your punishment for those actions. You did not keep your post but you did step up when demons broke loose, and you did ask another angel to help you when you left again, so I won't hold this against you." 

"You did, however, fail to put your mother back in her cell. You defended her and also took the life of one of your siblings in the process, wiped him out of existence." God closed his hand in mid air and the piano crashed into million pieces.

"You also took a human life. Cain, the first murderer, whom you've helped figure out a way to become mortal again after so long." He closed his other hand and the bar along with the stocked shelves behind it exploded.

"You've cut off your wings over and over again, and given the world countless proofs of divinity." He opened and closed both hands and everything else in the room crumbled into little pieces.

Lucifer's heart was racing. He tried answering, defending himself, but no sound came out. He couldn't move, couldn't speak. 

This was so unfair, so unjust. He was indeed careless and told everyone who he was but no one believed him. And everything else was in self defense, or in the name of defending the people he loves. There was no malicious intentions in anything he'd done. But he knew that day would come, eventually. He was just hoping that it would come after he'd spent some time with his detective. He was hoping his judgment would wait until after she reached old age and left him to go to the Silver City where she belonged. Where he could never follow.

He never expected it to happen so soon.

His father's eyes were cold, his voice angry. "I hereby sentence you to death. You will spend the rest of your existence in your hell loop. This verdict will be executed immediately." 

Lucifer expected his father to open and close his fists again, to break his body into little pieces, decimate him just like he did to his belongings.

But God lowered his fists and nodded towards Michael who gladly took out his sword and approached his unarmed brother with a content smile on his face. He observed his fallen brother, frozen with fear and terror, and swung his sword without warning, slashing Lucifer's belly open with one smooth motion. 

And with that both God and Michael disappeared.

\--------

Lucifer stumbled towards his bedroom, barely managing to stay on his feet. If he's going to bleed to death, at least he could do so in the comfort of his own bed.

He almost toppled over several times, unable to balance himself as he used both his arms in order to keep his guts from falling out through the massive gash in his midsection. This was bloody hideous, too much of a horror movie or the work of a sadistic murderer. A fitting description for his twin. 

He kept swaying on his feet, slowly moving towards his bedroom, dripping blood on the marble floor. It was getting harder to move, the pain was overwhelming, and the sensation of his body falling apart was unsettling. He could feel the metallic taste of blood climbing up his throat.

Bollocks… This was indeed the worst way to go… 

His whole frame staggered as he climbed the steps towards his bedroom, somehow managing to reach the top of the stairs. He needed to rest for a moment, to catch his breath. He leaned onto the wall next to the entrance, so close to his bed but it felt like miles away. 

He was unable to take in a full breath. His head was spinning, probably from the bloodloss. Everything hurt, and he felt nauseous. He gagged and blood went up his throat and started dripping down his chin. 

The remains of his strength left him and he slid down the wall. He used one arm as leverage in order to stay seated and not fall on his face, trying to keep his dignity as much as possible, while his other hand kept his guts in place.

He thought about the people he loves, finding his dead body. The horror in their eyes as they'd walk into his home, only to find him butchered like a wild animal. 

Chloe might fall apart, even though she'd been to countless gruesome homicide scenes. Ella will definitely cry over him. Maybe even Daniel would shed a tear. And Linda… Linda is going to be so upset, she won't know what happened to Amenadiel. She might think he was also lying dead somewhere. He needed to tell her.

He fumbled for his phone, only barely retrieving it from his jacket pocket, but it slipped out of his grasp. He couldn't feel his fingers anymore, and all the blood on his hands made everything too slippery.

His phone was on the floor beside him. It kept ringing now but he couldn't gather the strength to reach out and grab it. The name on the bloodstained screen said 'my detective'. She was going to be so pissed at him. 

"I love you." He murmured out into the empty room as darkness claimed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, that happened...  
> And God is a real bad guy here, as you might have noticed.
> 
> This is going to get worse.
> 
> As always, I appreciate every comment, so please comment away :)


	3. Don't leave me

The hand wasn't moving. Not even a small twitch. There was too much blood on the floor, and it was only what she could see from the bottom of the stairs. She was a homicide detective, she knew there should be a bigger puddle of blood inside the room, around the body. 

The body. 

His body.

No...

She climbed the stairs, careful not to slip on the massive amount of blood still leaking down by the force of gravity. 

And then she saw him, his tall frame slumped against the wall of his bedroom. His midsection was covered with blood, his hands and forearms were also soaked with crimson. He was deathly pale, dark circles under his eyes. It reminded her of how he looked when she jumped over him, to protect him from the bomb after Marco shot him in his club. The pool of blood around him was alarming now as it was then. 

He survived it then, just barely. But he did survive.

She scooted over, coming down to her knees next to him, her jeans getting stained by the puddle of cooling blood. She was now touching his bloodstained neck, searching for his pulse. She was relieved to find it there, weak and thready, probably from the bloodloss.

She took out her phone, calling dispatch. "I need medical assistance ASAP, I have an injured police consultant at Lux penthouse. Please hurry." She gave them all the details and hung up, placing her phone back in her jeans front pocket. 

She needed to check on him, to calm herself. She needed to see if it was just another bullet wound or something worse. 

She already knew the answer even before she checked. The last time he was shot in the gut he was bleeding out slowly, for hours. But they were both standing in the evidence room less then an hour ago, so she knew his injuries had to be much worse this time around.

She carefully removed his hand that was still clenched to his abdomen and was startled by the renewed flow of blood from the large gash marrying his stomach. It was so deep, it was almost splitting him in half. She needed to close her eyes just for a moment, to compose herself and fight the bile that was threatening to rise up her throat.

This injury was worse than anything she'd seen before. She tried not to think about the fact that she could actually see his insides through the gash. But he was the devil. If anyone could survive this kind of injury, it was him. She had to pull herself together and staunch the bleeding while keeping his insides in place until help comes. 

Chloe reached one hand towards the bed, pulling on the silken sheets. She folded the expensive fabric and pressed it onto the sluggishly bleeding gash, trying not to think too much about her partner's dire condition. The sheets were slippery and far from suitable for this purpose but it would have to do for now. She wasn't going to leave him in order to get a towel or some bandages. He needed her close right now if he was going to survive this.

She tried not to push too hard on the wound, just hard enough so he won't bleed to death. 

Lucifer grunted weakly as the pressure made the pain in his midsection spike. His eyes fluttered open, his gaze distant and unfocused. It took him a moment to pull himself back to reality and register who was beside him, practically holding him together.

"Detective." He breathed out, relieved to find her so close. At least he wasn't going to die alone.

"My God, Lucifer. What happened to you?" He grimaced and she corrected herself. "Yeah, I know god didn't have anything to do with this." She added with a teary smile, gently caressing his cheek with her free hand.

"On the contrary dear." He managed to blurt out, his voice weak and shaky. His teeth were coated with blood and it was now dripping down his chin once again. "God had everything to do with this." 

She was staring at him with wide eyes, unable to grasp what he was saying. "Your father did this to you?" 

"My father decided on the punishment. Michael executed. Quite literally." He tried joking but the wet cough that followed made Chloe panic again as more blood kept dripping down his chin. She watched him in silence, trying to calm herself as he somehow managed to catch his breath. She was afraid to ask but she had to know. 

"What was the punishment?" Her voice was small, barely audible.

Lucifer's dark eyes stared into hers. She could see the tears gathering in his eyes as he was searching for words. 

He couldn't bear hurting her, but he couldn't lie to her either. The despair in his gaze frightened her. "Lucifer, please tell me…" She begged.

"Death." He said with the softest voice as a tear rolled down his cheek. 

"No…"

"Yes." He whispered back, his strength wanning.

"No, I won't let you die." She was crying now, her tears following his. "The medical team will be here soon. They can help, so just hold on." She was pleading to him now. He hasn't moved at all since he regained consciousness and she knew it was a bad sign.

"It's no use love, my father always gets what he wants." He was struggling to stay awake, his breathing ragged and shallow. "Please tell Linda that Amenadiel is alive and was put in charge of Hell." Another wet cough rocked his frame, his eye squeezing shut for a moment. 

"And I need you to know that I love you Chloe. I always have, since our first case together. Took me some time to realize that." His voice was but a whisper now and she couldn't help but wonder if all the talking was worsening his already awful state. "It was hard for me to say it, because I only said it before to my father, and he threw me out..." More tears fell from his eyes. 

Chloe scooted even closer, pulling his head to rest on her shoulder while she kept hold on the folded sheets, one hand still pressing against his wounds.

Her hair was tickling his cheek and his nose, her floral scent masking the heavy stench of his own blood. Her hand was caressing his cheek and running through his hair, and he could feel the serenity of the end engulfing him.

"It's okay, I don't need you to say anything. Just stay with me. Don't leave me." She was trying to stay strong for him but her tears fell freely now, landing in his hair. He couldn't see it, couldn't feel it. His eyes were closed again, his breath ragged and way too shallow. 

She just got him back and now she was going to lose him again.


	4. Mrs Morningstar

She kept speaking to him, pleading him to hold on, telling him that help was on its way. 

She was afraid to move, keeping pressure on the wound with one hand while caressing his stubbled cheek with the other, supporting his head that had slumped against her shoulder as he lost consciousness once again mere minutes ago.

When she stopped speaking she suddenly noticed the room was too silent. At first she hadn't realized what it meant, her mind refusing to grasp the gravity of such silence.

And then it hit her. The room was too silent because Lucifer wasn't making wheezing sounds anymore. He wasn't making any sounds anymore. 

He wasn't breathing. 

No…

Not like this…

She was frantically searching for his pulse once again. It was barely there, weak and irregular, as if his heart was struggling to keep him alive by pumping the small amount of blood still inside his system while most of it was painting his marble floors and now ruined designer suit with sticky crimson.

She needed to give him mouth to mouth, breath for him, but it meant repositioning him, and she was afraid it might cause even more damage. She had to do something, his body won't last long without any oxygen. 

She gently shifted his body, making sure to give him enough support, careful not to agitate his wounds. It was difficult, she was so small in comparison to him, he felt like dead weight against her. 

No… 

Not dead.

God, she hated that phrase.

God... 

He did this to him. She needed to save him now. Did God make her for him so she could save him now? Or was he really just a sadistic bastard? 

He was lying on the floor now and she tucked the edges of the makeshift bandages underneath him so she could use both her hands. 

She continued with clearing his airway, wiping the blood from his mouth. He looked awful, his pallor emphasized by the red smudges on his face and neck. But he was still so beautiful, his facial features were calm, unguarded, and it made him look so young, so angelic.

She started giving him mouth to mouth, his chest rising with each of her exhales and falling as she let go, more blood coming out from the corners of his mouth and she had to clear it again before the next round. 

The elevator chimed and she heard voices. "Medics here! detective Decker?"

"Over here, in the bedroom. Hurry, he's not breathing." She desperately yelled towards them. She was so relieved to have someone else on their side, someone who was trained to handle these kinds of situations.

They took him away from her, carefully loading his limp body onto the stretcher, searching for signs of life. She heard them quietly speaking to each other, wondering how he even survived that long. One of them inserted a tube down his throat, bagging him, pushing some much needed air into his lungs. The other put a needle in his arm, giving him blood transfusion.

They used bandages and some sort of duct tape in order to stabilize the wound, both stunned by the fact that his heart was still beating with such a gruesome injury and so much blood loss. It seemed they were treating him just because it was protocol, or because she was there, and not because they thought he had a chance of surviving this. But they still did their best.

They took him to the ambulance, Chloe riding with them, holding his limp hand, unable to take her eyes off him. How could his father be so cruel? How could he judge Lucifer so harshly? Kill one of his own children?

His heart stopped on the way to the hospital and they couldn't restart it. They were almost there, so they continued with compressions in order to keep his system circulating.

The paramedics spoke amongst themselves, said it was too long, that maybe he'd have brain damage if he'd survive this. 

That he probably won't survive this. 

She didn't know what to think. He was an angel, a supernatural being. She saw him heal so fast in the past. But he said his father sentenced him to death, so was there even a chance of saving him? 

They unloaded him from the ambulance, keeping compressions as he was rushed into surgery. She was left behind and couldn't help but wonder how it was going to end. 

She was led to a waiting room, two other people were there, both were crying and praying. She wasn't the praying type, and God did this to him, so praying was out of the question. 

She was angry at God, but she was also terrified that talking to him, praying to him, even yelling at him might make him send Michael over to finish what he started.

She didn't phone Ella. She didn't know what to say. Ella didn't know what was going on. She believed God was merciful and was surely going to pray for him to save her friend. 

She phoned Linda only to break her heart, giving her the news regarding the father of her child, being sent to rule hell. Linda was so upset so Chloe didn't tell her about Lucifer, whose life hung on the balance. She didn't know how to.

She was on her own and the surgery was taking forever, but it was a good sign. It had to be. It meant he wasn't dead yet, that he survived up until now, and maybe they would get a break. Maybe he was going to be okay.

\------

Time passed. Some of the people in the waiting room left, others came instead. 

When the doctor came into the waiting room, asking for Mrs Morningstar, she jumped off her chair, not bothering to correct him.

He told her they did everything in their power to fix the damage but there was just too much of it. 

He said that the injuries were too extensive and the damage to her husband's internal organs was almost irreparable and he was now connected to several machines in order to keep his body functioning. She fought hard not to break down into tears at his words, but it was no use.

He kept talking, and through her sobs she heard his sorrow for her, for them. He told her that now only time will tell but that her husband most likely won't make it through the night. 

"I'm so sorry, Mrs Morningstar." The doctor gave her a sympathetic look, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Would you like to see him?" 

She followed the doctor to the ICU, led into a private room. She found him unconscious, most of his torso heavily bandaged. For some reason she expected him to be awake, quipping some jokes with the attractive nurses, charming them, as he did with everyone.

He was pale, his skin clammy. He had a tube down his throat, helping him breath. Countless tubes and wires were coming in and out of his body, connected to pumps and monitors and all sorts of machines she didn't know anything about. 

He seemed so young and fragile, so helpless, his chest rising and falling in sync with the hiss of the machine that was keeping him alive, breathing for him.

Chloe sat by his bedside, touching him, squeezing his hand, waiting for him to start stirring and squeeze back, but nothing happened. 

She sat there for what felt like hours and finally she fell asleep, her head leaning against his forearm, their fingers interlaced. She was dreaming of him waking up and smiling at her, softly kissing her. It felt so real, she could almost sense his lips on hers.

She was startled awake by the loud beeping sounds coming from the machines in the room. She rose to her feet as the medical team rushed to his bedside, pushing her out of the way. 

They were working around him, yelling words she didn't understand, but then everything stopped moving and she saw it. 

She saw it and her world ended.

The flat line on the heart monitor made her lose her breath. She felt like her own heart had stopped beating as well. 

Everyone in the room was looking at her now and she couldn't breath. Couldn't think. Couldn't exist without him. And then her knees buckled and she fell to the floor.


	5. Good morning detective

Everything was a haze, he felt like he was floating, wrapped in cotton or maybe it was silk. He couldn't tell.

His body was tingling. His mind was blank.

And then he heard her, speaking to him. Her beautiful voice wrapping around his soul, as if she was caressing it, guiding him home.

At first nothing about what she was saying made any sense. Why was she telling him about how good looking his nurses were? 

Oh... She was counting the reasons for him to wake up. He didn't even know he was asleep. And why were there nurses in his home?

Reality started creeping in, the beeping sounds around him, the distinct scent of disinfectants, the clearly uncomfortable bed, and her sad voice, begging for him to wake up, to come back to her.

He could feel the tingling in his body morph into pain. Something must have happened to him, but he couldn't remember what it was. His limbs felt too heavy, his body stiff. And not the good kind of stiff… 

Fingers were interlaced with his, their touch was firm, grounding, yet gentle and caring. As if whoever's fingers it was, was afraid he might break if they squeezed too hard. The touch was so gentle and loving and he knew it was her, as no one else ever touched him that way.

He was trying so hard to concentrate, focusing all his strength in moving his fingers against hers, letting her know that he was there, that he could feel her, hear her. 

She fell quiet so he must have been successful, but he wasn't sure so he tried again. And suddenly the warmth of her fingers left his, and migrated to his face, caressing both his cheeks. "Lucifer? Can you hear me?" 

He could hear how her voice was hopeful but shaking, and he wanted to speak, to reassure her that he was there. But he had something lodged down his throat and the tingling sensation was returning once again as he fell back to unconsciousness.

\-------

The next time he woke up his throat was cleared and his body wasn't tingling anymore. Just heavy. He felt odd, like a stuffed turkey. Not that he knew how stuffed turkeys felt like.

And then the pain in his gut hit him, the nausea threatening to drown him. He must have made an unhappy sound because before he knew it she was all over him, his detective, his Chloe, crying and laughing at the same time, running her delicate hands over his face and in his hair, encouraging him to open his eyes for her.

It took a few attempts, but eventually his eyes fluttered open, and she was there, leaning over him, a happy smile plastered all over her face and she had tears in her eyes.

She spread soft kisses all over his face, her tears falling on his cheeks, making him want to hold her close and never let go.

He gave out a small smile, still exhausted but so happy to be there, with her.

And then his breath hitched, eyes widened with terror. Coming to his view was Michael, standing behind his beloved detective, his sword drawn. 

He was trying to warn her but his tongue felt too heavy, he only managed a weak grunt. His brother was going to hurt her again, just because she loved him. He should have pushed her away in order to protect her, keep her safe. But now it was too late. 

Michael was here. 

Michael came to finish the job.

Michael was going to hurt Chloe, and it was all his fault.

He could see the fear in Chloe's eyes as she turned her head and found Michael standing behind her. She screamed as he took hold of her shoulder and stabbed her in the back, then pulled the sword out from her body and tossed her aside as if she was nothing but a ragdoll.

She was still breathing, he could hear her gasping and coughing next to his bed. He tried gathering his strength, to get up and get her away from his sadistic twin. He wanted to protect her but he just couldn't move, as if his supernatural strength wasn't a part of him anymore.

Michael's vicious smile terrified him. He was standing above him now, his sword tip placed just over his heart. Chloe was still gasping, somehow managing to speak, begging him not to do this. 

He was staring into Lucifer's eyes. "You can't save her from me, brother. You can't save anyone anymore." And with this he pushed down hard, and the fallen angel could hear his detective screaming in agony as Michael's sword pierced through his heart...

The sword went through and through, coming out from the back of the bed. He had no chance of surviving this. 

He could hear Chloe's ragged breath, her cries of despair, so close yet so far away.

And then Michael twisted his sword, still embedded into his heart, and everything went dark.

\------

Lucifer woke up in his bed, his naked body sliding against his silken sheets. 

Something felt odd, different. Like he wasn't supposed to be there.

And then he heard it. 

Someone was mumbling next to him.

He turned to find Chloe asleep in his bed, half naked, wearing one of his white dress shirts, smiling and happily muttering in her sleep. 

He watched her, admiring her golden hair and beautiful fleshy lips. Memories of their first night together made his heart swell with so much joy and happiness. 

They were so good together.

Incredible.

He kept watching her sleep with a soft smile on his face, cherishing the rare moment of pure happiness he had in a very long time.

She woke up with a loud snore and he tried not to laugh. 

"Oh... Hi..." She said softly.

"Hello." He answered, his smile widening.

"Was I snoring like a truck driver?"

"You know what, don't answer that, because I just remembered, you don't lie." She said playfully, her fingers tracing his jawline and his lips.

He leaned over for a soft kiss, running his palm against her neck and down her chest. Everything felt so right, so domestic. He could stay here forever.

"Good morning, detective." He purred.

"Good morning." She quipped back with her beautiful smile, meant just for him.

They were both so happy, snuggling together, softly kissing, their bodies pressed together. 

He was tickling her now, and her laughter was so beautiful and pure, he couldn't seem to get enough of it.

\---

Outside, Amenadiel is watching over his brother, tears filling his eyes. He hurries to conceal them, discreetly wiping them away. 

He can't show weakness, he's the king of Hell now.

Has been for centuries. 

He kept watching his fallen brother. Kept telling himself that at least part of his loop was happy. 

That at least he gets to have some peace before everything falls apart all over again. 

END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hate me...


End file.
